Don't Mourn The Sun
by blank canvas of me
Summary: "Her body lurched forward, and she rolled her shoulders nervously. Both of her hands rested securely on the railing behind her...Then after a few more seconds of debate, she just let go. Gravity did the rest." Centers on Misa's decision at the end of the anime and manga. Angsty. Possible spoilers.


**Mourning The Sun:  
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><p><em>"You draw me close for a while, <em>_so quiet. You tell me everything._

_If I forget what you say, then you come to me and tell me again. _

_Yes, you'd tell me once again._

_But what happens when I know it all? _

_Then what should I do after that? _

_What then?" _

_-Misa's Song_

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><p>The sun was warm.<p>

It heated Misa's numb body, causing a faint blush to spill over her pale cheeks. She relished in the slivers of yellow that managed to reflect through the bus' metal, but only for a moment. She often didn't feel anything anymore, too invested in her sorrowful misery to even put effort into caring. Even her luminous appearance had faded over the passing months, which felt more like flashes of pained memories. Her cheeks had hollowed in, turning thin and gaunt. She was still beautiful, as imperfectly perfect as she had ever been, her lips plush and thick eyelashes dark, but desolate in a way. Misa Amane was now frail, like a delicate piece of glass. She was capable of shattering like a castle of glass, even at the slightest gust of wind. She was vulnerable and fragile, broken and breakable.

The bus continued to move, and her hands stayed tightly pressed together on the elegant, dark fabric of her dress. She usually didn't bother fixing herself up, but today was special. The bus careened to the side, and she looked out, blue eyes hard. She resembled a china doll, emotionless and flawless. Her icy eyes were glossy, like an endless opening to a window. Her red lips stayed permanently locked together, stoic and serious. She was nothing like the bubbly, carefree girl that had been living months before. She was hardened, frightened, and drowning inside of herself, with no ability or knowledge of how to escape from the thrashing water that consistently approached her.

Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes at any passing moment.

_Light_, her thought seemed to scream every second. _Light_. This wasn't how it was supposed to end. She was supposed to be rich, married to Light, in love with Light, having children with Light, (he was supposed to love her. After everything she did for him, he was supposed to finally show his gratitude through love) simply being with Light. Kira would be gone. Near would be. They were supposed to be normal. She was supposed to pry the image of the death note from her mind, even for a few decades with him. (Light was supposed to love her. Just once. She had let him use her. She had let him take advantage. All for love. And he never truly returned the feelings, did he?)

This was not how it was supposed to end.

Light shouldn't have been murdered ruthlessly on that stairway; his face still beautiful, his dress shirt still straightened and ironed. She didn't even mind that it was stained thick with crimson. He was just supposed to come home, to finally stop working so hard and _love_ _her_. It was all she ever asked of him.

The bus' tires squeaked. More passengers got off, and some got on.

She curled tighter near the warmth of the sun.

How could it have ended like this? Had she done something- said something- did something- to deserve this? Even if she had killed innocent people, it had certainly been done for the right reasons. Right?

_...Right?_

There was no one to answer to but herself.

Misa-Misa was gone. For good. She would never return.

_I'm sorry, Light_. Her inner pleas cried out for him, to the man that never truly loved her, to the person that had never been anything but cruel. She cried for a man- a boy- that had never been hers to begin with.

Misa Amane hadn't been stupid. Immature, yes. Reckless, yes. Bubbly, yes. But not stupid. Never stupid. She had never been anything but a good actress. Misa heaved a shaky breath of air. Her blonde hair cascaded down her bare shoulders like a halo.

Her steady breaths were intermingled with thoughts of Light. _In, out, in, out, LightLightLightLightLightLight._

"Last stop, miss." She hadn't even realized that the bus had jerked to a sullen stop. Fear penetrated throughout her, but it washed away with the relief of knowing that she would never again wake to another sorrow-filled day. She stood up, gracefully making her way to the front. Misa Amane was nothing but graceful. Her boots and long dress made it difficult, but she managed to accomplish it casually. The bus driver was elderly, grey strands lining in his thin hair. He gauged at her for a moment.

"You look familiar, miss, if you don't mind me saying so." He was suddenly struck with realization as he pointed a finger at her. "Hey, aren't you that celebrity Misa-Misa?"

"No," she replied briskly, stepping off the bus hastily. There was a time when the media was shocked at her abrupt disappearance from fame, ranting wild rumors about just exactly why her sudden absence had occurred. Articles were printed frantically, her agents called worriedly, and the Japanese police once showed up at her front door (they brought painful memories with them) when she never responded. Misa had become one with her house, scarcely crawling out from the soft covers of her sheets, pushing away food and other activities her families and friends had pressed on her. She never gave a reason as to why, and as her lack of stardom slowly wore off, they stopped asking all together. Her long dress scratched the back of her thighs as her knees bent with the action. She nearly sighed with contentment as the sun brushed up against her golden locks. "You're mistaken."

There was no response other than the small swishing sound that signaled the closing of the doors. And then she went onward, brushing herself off, making sure she looked exactly precise, humming her lullaby as she did so. It comforted her as she made the assent up the stairs to the silver-rimmed elevator. She pressed the button. It lit up an illuminating yellow, and she slipped inside, waiting patiently for the doors to close. Eventually they shut, shielding herself from the sunlight, leaving her alone with only the soothing sound of her voice to keep her company.

He never had loved her.

All those days she spent pretending those words would eventually turn from irritation to love was nothing more than a lie.

And still...

Here she was...

Doing all of this...

For him.

For _Light._

She swallowed down the sobs that threatened to choke her voice.

_"Whoever uses the death note can neither go to heaven nor hell." _

Misa blinked her darkening eyes, watching her mouth part in the reflecting elevator. Her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. Her song faltered, and she had to clear her throat to regain composure. Then where? Where would she end up? Would she just fade into nothingness? Would she become an incomprehensible being, unable to think or produce movement? She closed her eyes at the thought, lengthy eyelashes batting against the tip of her cheeks.

Nothing sounded better than _being_ nothing.

Especially after everything that had happened.

She needed to shut her eyelids and never open them again. If she ever did, if there was even the possibility, then Light would have to be there. It was pathetic. She was pathetic. After all he had done to her, she still loved him with every ounce of strength her body had left.

There was a ding.

The doors opened, nearly blinding her with the overwhelming sun.

It blurred her eye sight, causing them to swell up in moisture. She stepped forward uncertainly, her dark boots colliding with the concrete. Misa took another few hesitant steps, walking dangerously close to the guard rail. She placed a firm hand on the metal railing, squeezing it ever so slightly. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and she just stood there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of warmth on her skin. Misa's song finally ended, her voice cutting off, and she swung her leg awkwardly around the bar.

Her blue eyes flickered left, then right. It was completely vacant. She was the only one there. Her breathing shook as she swung her other leg around, dress dragging along. She stepped down, resting unharmed on the other side.

"Light..."

There was no response.

"Light, I'm so sorry."

She stepped forward, nearing the edge of the building.

"Misa-Misa is sorry."

Another small step, and she could see the cars below it, busily bustling about.

Her body lurched forward, and she rolled her shoulders nervously. Her dress flapped in the wind as a cold breeze swept over her. Both her hands rested securely on the railing behind her.

...Then after a few more seconds, she just let go.

Gravity did the rest.

It was the most wonderful feeling, the feeling of flying...

And the sun...

It was warm.

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><p><strong>AN: I feel like I did okay while writing this, but something's not write about the way I portrayed Misa. I think I made her a little too serious, but then again, this is her suicide she's going to. I've been planning to write something like this for a while, but I wasn't sure how until today. I hope you enjoyed reading this (even if it did make you sad) and criticisms as well as reviews are always welcomed. :)**


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